Exposed
by laoisbabe
Summary: I know some others have written versions of it before, but this is my version of what I imagined happened to Walt and Donna after the end of Season 4. Decided to post it before the new Season starts.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n - Wasn't sure whether to post this or not. I started it at the beginning of the year but never finished it. Now that Season 5 is about to land, I thought it was now or never, so here is my version of what happened next after the finale.**

 **Chapter 1**

This feeling was alien to Walt. It had been such a long time for him. He felt many things, more than he had for some time. He felt lust maybe even love, but ever the pragmatist thought it was far too early to describe his feelings as love. Holding Dr. Monaghan in his arm, knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her, felt amazing.

He breathed in her scent as he kissed her milky skin, trailing his lips along her neck to her shoulder slowly and sensuously towards her breast. She was perfect. They had spent a lovely evening together. He found he could relax in her company and let his walls down. A woman like that was hard to find.

He must have lingered a little too long as she suddenly took control and flipped him and sat playfully astride him. He looked up at her and couldn't help but smile. She ran her fingers through his chest hair and teasingly down between his ribs to his belly button and below before leaning down to kiss his lips. They kissed passionately. Walt took her in his powerful arms and rolled her gently so he was once again in control.

He was lost in this beautiful woman when he heard the crashing sound as someone burst through his cabin door. He sat up immediately and jumped from his bed. His instinct told him there was danger. His first thought was where had he left his gun. It was out in the living room. He ran to the bedroom door hoping to make it to his Colt, but it was already too late.

The intruder had Walt's rifle which he religiously left by his front door. By the time Walt was in the living room, his own weapon was pointed at him. He instantly froze and raised his hands. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. A young haggard-looking man stood there, glaring at him. There was something familiar about him. A sense of foreboding descended upon Walt as he realized this was a bad situation.

"Put it down, Son."

"I don't think so, Sherriff."

Walt wondered if he could overpower him. He had a height and weight advantage, but the intruder had a weapon.

"Dr. Monaghan? Donna? Are you in there?" he called menacingly.

Walt's face betrayed his surprise. Donna? What did he want with Donna?

"Yes, Sheriff. Me and your girlfriend go way back," he told him.

Donna was scared. She had recognized the voice. Tommy Clark, a veteran she had treated and had been trying to get away from.

"You need to leave, Tommy. This is not the place. He's nothing to do with this."

"Oh, I'm leaving, Donna, but you're coming with me."

Walt didn't like the sound of that and reacted instinctively by taking a protective step forward, an action Tommy obviously interpreted as a threat because, before he knew it, Walt was being propelled back through the bedroom door by the force of the 30 caliber bullet from his own rifle impacting his body. An almighty pain erupted instantly just below his right shoulder before he landed heavily on the flat of his back on the bedroom floor.

He immediately heard Donna scream in terror.

As he flirted with consciousness he was sure he heard Donna crying. She had jumped from the bed and dropped to her knees beside him. Her blurred figure leaned over him. He felt her soft hands pressing on his chest, but he wanted her to stop. It hurt so much.

And then without warning, it did stop. Her reassuring touch disappeared. Walt raised his left arm weakly and reached for her, but he barely had the strength to hold it up.

Tommy grabbed Donna roughly by her wrist and wrenched her away from him.

"No. Walt!" she cried desperately as she was dragged away. "Oh my God. Please, Walt."

Hearing her panicked screams Walt knew he had to help her. Using every remaining ounce of his faltering strength and the support of the door frame, he shakily hauled himself to his feet, but was too slow and too weak to help her. He staggered into the living room, grasping at furniture for reinforcement and headed towards the door. It was then that he heard his truck starting up outside and knew it was useless.

The effort of getting to the door was too much for his wounded body. The room was spinning. Breathing was becoming difficult. He knew he was losing a lot of blood and was most likely going to pass out. Donna needed his help, but he also knew he needed help. He stumbled towards the phone table and managed to grab the handset before his legs gave out. He collapsed to the floor. His pain was immense. His vision was closing in. He brought the phone close to his face and dialed 911. All the while he tried to draw air into his lungs.

The operator answered quickly. He managed to identify himself, at least he thought he did, before the darkness closed in and he finally passed out leaving the phone line open. The 911 operator called his name a number of times hoping he would respond, but he didn't.

Luckily for Walt, she followed procedure and called the local law enforcement office in the rural area, having located the caller from identifying the caller's number. Ferg happened to be manning the Sherriff's office when the call came in.

"Sherriff's Department, Deputy Ferguson speaking."

"This is 911 operator Kelly Svenson speaking. I have received an emergency call from a caller who identified himself as Sherriff Walt Longmire. He is in need of emergency assistance. Can you respond?"

"What? Walt? Is he okay?"

"I'm not sure what the nature of the emergency is, Sir. He identified himself and then I lost contact," she explained.

"Do you know where he is?"

"The call came from his registered residence," she told Ferg.

"Ok, I'm on my way."

"I'll dispatch an ambulance."

"What? Why?" Ferg asked sounding flustered, before correcting himself and becoming professional Ferg again. "I mean, okay. Roger that."

He disconnected the call and the first thing he did was try to call Walt's house, but he got a busy tone. Of course, he thought. He hurried to his car and as he sped from Durant towards Walt's property, he tried the radio in the hope of raising Walt.

"Come in, Walt."

He tried over and over, but no one responded. Little did he know that Tommy and Dr. Monaghan were listening in to his repeated calls. Donna was crying as Tommy drove erratically through the countryside. She was distraught wondering if Walt was alive. Her body trembled from shock and the cold as she sat, trying to cover her semi-naked self with her folded arms. She was scared. She knew Tommy. He was unstable. He had been a patient of hers for several years and he had become obsessed with her. He had previously made advances, but she had insisted on keeping their relationship professional. However, she was considering severing all ties as he made her life increasingly uncomfortable lately.

"Tommy, you need to turn back. Please. You can't just leave him there," she pleaded. "He'll die if he doesn't get some help."

Tommy just shrugged.

"I look good driving the Sherriff's truck, don't I? Maybe I could have become his deputy?"

"Tommy, are you listening to me? You shot Walt. He's going to bleed to death if he doesn't get help."

Tommy turned and glared at her. His eyes were cold. It was clear he didn't care.

Donna sighed. She wasn't getting through to him. All she could think of was Walt lying, bleeding, on the bedroom floor. She had grown closer than she had expected to him in the last few weeks. He was the sort of man who grew on you without you realising and Walt had definitely grown on her.

Meanwhile, Ferg called Vic from his car. He had the awful sense that something was very wrong. Why else would Walt call 911?

Vic was at home, mulling over her conversation with Walt earlier that afternoon. She had been trying to get her head around her feelings, but just felt frustrated. The sound of her ring tone snapped her back to reality. Ferg sounded panicked on the other end of the line. He quickly told her what had happened. Needless to say Vic was horrified beyond words and very concerned for her boss.

She was on her way to her truck when she got another call, this time from the hospital to report that Walker Browning had escaped from custody. That worried Vic even more. Was it possible that Browning had managed to get to Walt's cabin in the short time it took them to realize that he was gone? And if so. what did he do to Walt?

Eventually, after a nerve-wrecking journey, Ferg's Charger skidded to a halt outside Walt's cabin. The first thing he noticed was that the Walt's Bronco wasn't there. As he rushed up the steps to the cabin, he noticed the door was wide open and the lock was broken. He drew his weapon and took a cautious step inside. He was stopped in his tracks by what he saw.

Walt was lying on his right side; a pool of his own blood staining the wooden floor. There was too much blood, Ferg thought. He feared the worst. At that point, it hadn't crossed his mind to question why Walt had no shirt on and his jeans undone.

"Walt?" he said as he hesitantly approached the Sheriff.

There was no response. He noticed the phone on the floor. He knelt down and placed his fingers tentatively on Walt's carotid and held his breath.

 **To be continued.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ferg's held his fingers against Walt's neck. There was a moment of dread before he eventually felt the weak flutter of a pulse.

"Oh, thank God," he said aloud.

He knew the ambulance was already on its way, the 911 operator had seen to that, but he would have to do something to stop, or at least slow, the bleeding in the interim. He ran to Walt's bathroom and found some towels. He returned to Walt and rolled him onto his back so he could see where the blood was coming from. The entry wound was neat and about three inches below his collar bone, but the exit wound on his back was ugly and jagged and bleeding profusely. Ferg then pressed the towel against the larger wound and tightly held it there.

"Just hold on, Walt," he pleaded.

As he did, Walt moaned.

"It's okay, Walt. Help's coming," he said reassuringly.

Walt began to cough and make disturbing sounds as he tried to breathe. Ferg realized that his lung had most likely been hit. He remembered a first aid course Walt had sent him and Vic on a couple of years back. Roll the victim on their injured side to allow the undamaged lung to function unimpeded. So he did that.

He was so relieved when he heard the ambulance driving up towards the house. He ran to the door.

"In here. Hurry!"

The paramedics did as he directed and once inside, quickly got to work on their patient. After a quick examination, they prepared to move him. One of them placed an oxygen mask on Walt and then set up an IV line, handing the bag of saline to Ferg hold with instructions to squeeze it gently to get the fluids into him quickly. The other was concentrating on the wound. He packed it and placed a pressure bandage on it.

"Okay, we need to get him to the ambulance now," one of them told Ferg.

His colleague left them and ran back to the ambulance to fetch the gurney. As he was out there, another truck pulled up outside.

Vis's heart plummeted when she saw the ambulance and the paramedic unloading the gurney. She parked the truck and got out as quickly as she could. She hobbled hurriedly towards the cabin. Her ankle was still killing her after her little encounter in the bar the previous day.

"Walt!" she yelled as she neared the house, a hint of panic in her voice.

She stopped dead at the entrance when she saw him lying just inside on the floor covered in blood.

"What the hell happened?" she asked Ferg who stood helplessly holding the saline. "Was it Browning?"

"Browning? Isn't he…..?

"He escaped custody at the hospital. I got a call while I was on my way here."

"I don't know who did this. The door was kicked in and I found him lying here. He's been unconscious since I got here."

"How bad is it?" she asked unable to hide her concern.

Ferg looked to the paramedic to answer.

"We need to get him to the hospital. He's losing too much blood," was the answer.

His colleague had returned with the gurney. Within a minute, they had expertly loaded their patient onto it. As they were about to wheel him to the deck, Walt started to come around. He was trying to speak.

"It's okay, Sherriff. Just breathe, nice and easy," the paramedic told him.

Walt's hand went up to remove the mask from his face and the medic stopped him.

"Wait," Ferg said, as he leaned down to hear what his boss was saying.

"Donna? Who's Donna?" he asked Vic.

Vic had to think for a minute. Walt put his hand out and grabbed at Ferg's sleeve, pulling him closer.

"He….took…..her…." Walt said breathlessly.

The Ferg looked perplexed until Vic told him who she was.

"Dr. Monaghan," she explained. "Oh my God. I think she and Walt were…you know…together."

Walt didn't release Ferg's sleeve. He repeated his words.

"He…has…her."

Ferg understood this time.

"Who, Walt? Who has her?"

"Tom…..Tommy….," the sheriff replied, his words slurred.

Vic and Ferg exchanged glances.

"Did he say Tommy?" Vic asked, not sure if she had heard correctly.

"I think so," Ferg replied, shrugging his shoulders to communicate that he didn't know who that was.

"Walt, who's Tommy? Walt?" Vic asked, trying to find out as much as she could, but it was no good. Walt had passed out once more.

"We gotta move," the paramedic told them, as they wheeled Walt out and carried him down the steps and out to the waiting ambulance.

Vic quickly scanned the cabin. She saw the beer cans and what looked like a ladies blouse on the floor near the coffee table and a denim shirt strewn on the sofa. She hobbled towards the bedroom and saw the blood spatter on the wall near the door frame. She checked the room and saw more blood on the floor. She noticed that the bed was unmade. Then her eyes were drawn to the cream skirt on the floor. She was beginning to get the picture. Walt definitely hadn't been alone when he was shot. She came back into the living room.

"Check the rest of the house. Dr. Monaghan was here when it happened. She could be hiding or she could be hurt," she told Ferg. "I'm going to ride with Walt to the hospital."

She yelled at the paramedics to wait for her and hurried out as fast as her injured ankle could carry her and climbed on board. They set off at speed, sirens blaring in the direction of Durant Regional Hospital.

Ferg checked the house inside and out. There was no sign of anyone else. It was then that he remembered that Walt's truck was missing.

"This guy probably took his truck," he muttered to himself.

He needed to get an APB out on it. But first he needed to call Cady. She should know what had happened.

He took out his cell and paused to compose himself for a moment, before placing the call. She answered quickly.

"Hi, Ferg. How are you this fine day?" she said, full of the joys of spring.

She had just been handed a large check from Jacob Nighthorse to provide a legal service for his native people on the Rez. It was the opportunity she had been waiting for her whole life. She was excited for the adventure that lay ahead.

"Eh, okay," was all Ferg could say.

"Is everything okay, Ferg?" she asked, sensing by the lack of his usual charm that he had something on his mind.

"Cady, it's your dad," he said hesitantly.

"Dad? What he gone and done now?"

"He's been shot, Cady. He's on his way to the hospital," he told her.

"What? Is he okay?"

"Eh, he was in and out of consciousness last I saw. Vic is in the ambulance with him. They've just left for the hospital," he told her.

"Oh God, I'll go straight there. Thanks for letting me know," she said, trying to remain calm.

They ended the phone call and Ferg called Ruby, who was off duty, to go to the office and help coordinate the search for whoever did this to Walt. The APB went out and he hoped that Highway Patrol would spot it. He tried to call Henry to tell him what had happened, but there was no response. Then he got back to the job at hand, photographing Walt's house. It felt a little voyeuristic, taking photographs of his boss's personal belongings in his personal space. He felt uncomfortable, but knew it was his job and that the incident needed to be recorded for evidence.

Meanwhile, in the ambulance, Vic was feeling more and more distraught. Walt's condition was deteriorating. He was noticeably struggling to breathe.

"Help him," she yelled at the paramedic.

He looked at her, feeling helpless. He knew what to do. The sheriff needed a chest tube, but it was something only a doctor should normally do at the hospital. He wasn't qualified to carry out the procedure, but considering the sounds that the sheriff was making as he tried to inhale, he may not be in need of it by the time they reach the hospital. It would probably be too late. He had to make a decision. He shouted to his colleague to stop the ambulance.

"What? Why?"

"Patient's in trouble. He needs a chest tube."

"Jim….you can't," the driver told him, knowing the implications it may have on his colleague's career.

"Just pull in." He's not going to make it if I don't."

The driver did as he asked. Jim rooted around their kit and found a chest tube and scalpel. Vic looked on, terrified. Jim asked her to raise Walt's arm over his head to give him better access to his chest. He swabbed the area and counted down his ribs to find the correct area to make the incision. He glanced at Vic and then at his colleague before making the small incision. Vic gripped Walt's hand tightly tears escaped her eyes. She flinched as Jim inserted a finger into the incision. She couldn't help but feel squeamish. He carefully inserted the tube through the wall of Walt's chest and waited. Relief washed over him as blood trickled out through the tube and almost instantly Walt's breathing eased.

Jim hammered on the divide between the driver and the patient.

"We're good. Get going, Steve. Put your foot down," he told his colleague.

With that, Steve pulled off the roadside and accelerated. Ten minutes later they reached the hospital. Cady was waiting outside when the ambulance pulled into the ambulance bay.

She strained to get close to her father as the paramedics unloaded him. Vic intercepted her as they rushed him into the ER.

"Let them work, Cady," she said, as fearful for Walt as Cady was. Reluctantly, she got out of the way as they brought him into the Trauma Room.

As the paramedics rhymed off their patient's injuries and his vitals, the doctor noticed the chest tube. He glared at the medics. He knew he would have to report the unauthorised medical procedure, but it would have to wait. His patient was his priority.

They got to work, striving to stabilise Walt before surgery. After what seemed like an eternity, he was taken to the OR. Cady and Vic tried to remain calm as they waited for news. As they waited, Vic's cell phone rang. It was Ruby.

"Vic, Walt's truck's been spotted, headed south. I've called Mathias to help out. He's going to follow, but has no authority off the Rez. They need you out there," she told her.

"Ok, Ruby. I'm on my way," Vic replied.

"How's Walter?"

"He's in surgery. We don't know much right now," she told her. "Cady's here. She could do with some company though. Have you been able to reach Henry?"

"Not yet but I can keep trying," Ruby told her.

The call ended and Vic explained to Cady that she had to go. She knew Walt would want her to find Dr. Monaghan. Despite her personal feelings of jealousy, she still had a job to do. She asked Cady to call her as soon as she knew anything.

 **To be continued**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - Thanks to all of you who have read and reviewed so far. Probably won't have this finished before Longmire Season 5 lands but maybe when you've all watched it, you might come back and finish this story. I'm so jealous you get to see it way before I will (Longmire not available on Netflix UK &Ire). Have to investigate alternatives. Enjoy the new season. **

**Chapter 3**

Meanwhile, out on the Rez, on his way to the Tribal Police headquarters, Mathias bluntly broke the news about Walt to his prisoner, Henry Standing Bear.

"What?"

"They say he's been shot," Mathias repeated.

"Oh no. Is he alive?"

"As far as I know," Mathias replied.

"So they know who did it?"

"Nope," Mathias replied. "But whoever he is, he took the sheriff's truck and has taken a hostage. They want me to help with the manhunt so I'll be letting you go. However, don't think we're done here," Mathias warned. "Not by a long shot."

Henry heeded his words as Mathias unlocked the handcuffs that he wore. Mathias left Henry sitting in his blood stained truck and entered the police HQ. Henry sat for a few moments, unsure what to make of it all, before sorely sliding to the driver's seat and starting the engine. He needed to get to the hospital to check on his friend.

When he got there he spotted Cady. She looked a lost soul, sitting alone on the corridor, staring into space, waiting for news.

"Cady?" he said, as he approached her.

"Henry? Where have you been? I've been trying to call you," she asked, standing and hugging him tightly. After she released him she stood back at arm's length. "You look terrible," she said unaware that Henry was hiding a bullet wound of his own.

"It's been a long day," he said, as he sorely sat on a chair beside her.

Cady noticed his pain and felt concerned.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"I'll be fine," he replied. "What happened to your father?"

"No one knows the full story. Ferg found him at the cabin. Someone shot him. He was with a lady doctor and they think the guy who shot him has taken her hostage. Oh Henry, how could this happen?" she asked desperately.

Henry considered the day he and Walt had. The last time he had seen his friend Henry was up on the mountain, watching over Walt through the sight of a rifle. Walt was trying to protect Gab, a Cheyenne girl who had killed a white man who had raped her. He was being held at gunpoint by Walker Browning, this white man's boss. He was looking to exact revenge on the young woman, and was willing to take Walt out in the process. Henry ended up shooting some of the men threatening Walt, and Walt shot Browning, quickly securing the scene and arresting Browning afterwards.

Once he knew his friend was safe, Henry had left the mountain, only to be arrested by Mathias as he walked back to town. What a day. What a few days!

He put his arm around his god daughter to try offer some comfort.

"He is strong," he said to her, also trying to convince himself.

There was nothing else to do now but wait and pray.

Vic was on her way to the main route south. She had contacted other local law enforcement on her cell and prearranged an alternate radio channel, knowing that perpetrator had access to the radio in Walt's truck. She was now in contact with Mathias over the prearranged channel on the radio. He informed her that the truck had been spotted on an old log road which was running parallel to the main route heading south. A car from Cumberland County was going to cut them off from the south and he and Vic would follow from the north.

She drove with sirens blaring and at speed until eventually she reached the log road. By the time she caught up on the truck, it was a scene of carnage. Mathias' truck was parked in the middle of the road with lights flashing. Just beyond it, she could see tire marks and broken glass. To the right, down an embankment, she could see Walt's truck. It was lying on its side. She recognized two deputies from Cumberland County peering inside. What worried her was the silence.

"What the hell happened?"

"He tried to ram us," one of the deputy's told her. "Eric shot the driver and he lost control of the truck."

"And the passenger? Is she okay?"

"We're trying to get to her. She's not moving," he told her.

"Damn it," she said, rushing to the front of the upturned vehicle.

Through the windscreen she could see both occupants. Neither was moving. She could see the bullet holes in the windshield and blood on the chest of the driver. He appeared to be deceased. It was more difficult to ascertain with Dr. Monaghan.

"We need to get in there," she yelled at the other deputies. "Help me get through the windshield."

Mathias returned with an axe from his truck and he started smashing through the windshield. Eventually, there was enough room for Vic to squeeze in and check on Dr. Monaghan. She felt for a pulse. She was alive but barely.

Vic knew the deputies had called for an air ambulance, but she had no idea how long it would take. Vic could see that Dr. Monaghan had experienced a head injury and there was blood in her hair and flowing down her face. They knew it was best not to move her in case she had suffered neck or back injuries.

The air medics arrived almost twenty minutes later. They had to land a kilometre away because of the accident location, and one of the Cumberland deputies picked them up from the landing zone. Vic looked on with concern, knowing the longer it took, the less chance Dr. Monaghan had of survival. It took a while, but they were eventually able to extricate the doctor from the wreck and fly her to the nearest Trauma Center which was in Casper.

Meanwhile, Vic had checked the wallet of the driver and identified him as Tommy Clark, a Wyoming local. She took his details so she could follow up, but the accident occurred in Cumberland County so the paperwork and notification was theirs. She was relieved. All she wanted was to get back to the hospital to Walt.

It was dark by the time she made it back to Durant. She hobbled into the hospital and got worried when she couldn't locate Cady. She returned to the reception and asked for an update. She was informed that the sheriff was out of surgery and in the ICU. She was directed to his room.

There she found an exhausted-looking Cady and an ill-looking Henry by Walt's side. Walt was hooked up to a ventilator and heart monitor. His face was ashen. It was very distressing seeing him like that.

"How is he?" she asked anxiously.

"He's stable now," Cady told her. "But he arrested in surgery. We nearly lost him, Vic. The doctor said that they can't be sure what damage has been done to his heart as a result of the cardiac arrest."

Vic's heart sank. She thought back to their discussion in the alley, her prying question, his reaction. She realised how immature she had been. She didn't even know how she had wanted him to react. She had let her jealousy cloud her judgement. While Eamon was young and energetic and somewhat attractive, he was no Walt. He didn't make her heart leap like Walt did.

Finding out that Walt had feelings for Dr. Monaghan made her feel like she had missed her opportunity. And in her jealous mood, she had pushed them together by suggesting that she stay with Walt for protection. Now in her mind, Walt was lying in this ICU bed because of her.

She was dealing with her feelings when she noticed Henry falter where he stood by the end of Walt's bed. His forehead was damp with sweat and he looked a little flushed.

"Henry, are you feeling okay?" she asked. "You don't look so good."

"I could so with some air," he said before turning to leave the tiny room.

As he walked out, the room began to spin. He made it to the corridor before he fainted. Cady heard the thud as he hit the floor. She rushed out and yelled for help. Two nurses came rushing to their aid.

"He's burning up," she told them.

Soon they had Henry on a gurney and down in the ER. Vic remained with Walt while Cady checked on Henry.

"What's going on with him? Is he ok?" Cady asked the nurse.

"I can't really discuss it with you. You're not family," the nurse told him.

"I'm as close to family as he has," Cady told her.

"Maybe he'll tell you himself? You can see him," she said, parting the curtain and letting her through. "I need to notify the deputy."

"Deputy? Why? Henry? What's going on?" Cady asked as she approached the gurney.

Henry looked defeated. He knew he couldn't hide anymore.

"My gunshot wound is infected," he told her directly.

"Gunshot wound? My God, Henry, who shot you?" she asked.

Henry sighed, realizing how ridiculous this was going to sound.

"Henry?" Cady asked impatiently. "Who?"

He looked her in the eyes.

"Your father."

Cady laughed nervously until she saw that Henry was not smiling.

"I'm serious. Your father shot me, but in his defense, he didn't know it was me."

"You're serious," Cady said, realizing that Henry was telling the truth.

Henry told her the whole story about trying to help Gab and getting shot and treating it himself. Cady listened on in horror.

"Oh my God, Henry. Does my dad know?"

"No. Of course not," he replied. "No one was supposed to know. Gab needed to get away."

"I can't believe it. I suspected you had helped her after I saw you two together yesterday. Dad was asking if I'd seen you and I lied to him, Henry," Cady told him. "I lied for you."

"I never asked you to," Henry responded.

Cady sighed in exasperation.

"You know what, Henry, tell it to Vic or Ferg. I have to get back to my dad," Cady said, leaving Henry resting.

When she got back to the ICU room, she found Vic holding her dad's hand and talking to him. She looked more upset than she had been earlier.

"Vic?" she said, as she entered the room.

Vic wiped a tear from her cheek.

"What is it?"

"I got a call while you were gone," Vic told her. "Dr. Monaghan didn't make it. She died of her injuries about ten minutes ago."

"Oh no," Cady said, looking towards her father. "That's awful. How am I going to tell him?"

Vic shook her head. Her heart genuinely breaking for Walt. He obviously had feelings for Dr. Monaghan. She knew what a big step it was for him to let anyone in and now this happened. She knew it would shake him to his core.

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N - thanks to you all for reviewing. I've been quiet this week - been busy with Season 5. Managed to get my hands on it so I'm one happy bunny._**

Chapter 4

The next morning, Walt was showing signs of improvement. Cady had spent the night and nurses had been keeping a close eye on him. By mid-morning the Doc Weston came around and informed Cady that he and the surgeon were happy with her dad's progress and would be holding all sedation and letting him wake up today. They also removed him from the ventilator as his breathing and SATs were close to normal.

When Cady heard this, she was thrilled. She called Vic, Ruby and Ferg each in turn to tell them the good news. Ferg called by soon after, thoughtfully bringing breakfast for Cady. They sat outside in the waiting area and ate breakfast together from a take-out bag. They talked, Ferg being his usual sensitive self and being a good friend to Cady. Cady was very appreciative of his thoughtfulness, but was still anxious to get back to her dad.

Ferg returned to the room with her and visited with Walt before leaving to go to the office. Ruby was next to arrive. She insisted that Cady go home just to freshen up and get a change of clothes. Cady was reluctant to leave, but it was hard to say no to Ruby. Ruby promised to call if Walt showed any signs of waking. So Cady left. Ruby sat with Walt and talked to him, reminisced about her friend, Martha, and the good times they shared and how much she missed her. Then when she ran out of topics to talk about she read the magazine that she had brought with her.

Vic called to check on Walt while Ruby was there before she went to Henry's room to have an official talk with him. It was there he told her the entire story of Gab's rape and his attempts at helping her. He also explained how he had been injured. He held nothing back, including saving Walt from Walker Browning and his goons. Vic listened on, knowing that while it cleared up a lot of what Walt had been investigating, there was little she could do as it all occurred on the Reservation.

She did have to decide whether to call in Mathias to arrest Henry. However, it could wait. Henry was not going anywhere and Walker Browning was missing. She knew he had not shot Walt, but he was still a fugitive. However, again there was a jurisdictional contradiction. Walt had shot him on the Rez, but she wasn't sure if he had actually arrested him. He knows he has no jurisdiction there so she doubted he had officially arrested him. She needed Walt to wake up. She really had to talk to him.

Cady returned a few hours later. She found it difficult to sleep, but had rested for a couple of hours and showered so felt much better. When she got there, Ruby was talking to the nurse outside the door to her father's room.

"Is he ok?" Cady asked, thinking the worst.

The nurse smiled.

"He's starting to wake up. You should sit with him. He'll most like be confused and groggy from the medication so be patient with him," she told her.

Cady thanked her and she and Ruby returned to the room. Walt looked better although still pale. A nasal canula ensured he received an oxygen rich mixture and a bag of saline replaced some of the lost fluids he had suffered.

Cady noticed the flutter of her dad's eyelids. His head lolled a little to the side and the expression on his face changed from peaceful to discomfort.

She spoke softly to him.

"Dad, it's me. It's Cady," she said, taking hold of his hand.

Hearing her voice gave him that last ounce of strength he required and he pried his eyes open. It took a few moments to focus and then he tried to give her a reassuring smile.

Ruby looked on, relieved to see her old friend fighting back to them.

It took Walt a few moments to realise where he was. Definitely a hospital, he thought to himself. Must be bad, they look worried, he noticed. He tried to recall what had happened. It was all a bit of a blur.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice weak, his speech a little slurred.

"You were shot, Dad. Can you remember anything?" Cady asked.

Walt shook his head slowly.

"Was I working?" he asked, assuming it was on the job.

"No, Dad, I don't think so. You were at home. Someone broke in," Cady told him hoping to spark a memory.

Walt closed his eyes to try and remember. Disjointed flashes of memory came back to him. He remembered playing the piano. He remembered the sensuous kiss he and Donna had shared. Then he remembered a flash of excruciating pain and hearing her screams. And then….nothing.

When he opened his eyes again it was confusing. He didn't realise it was almost an hour later. Ruby had left and Vic was sitting where she had been. He woke with a start, his breathing noticeably quicker.

"Where is she?" he asked, as he tried to sit up in the bed, hurting himself in the process.

"Dad, what are you doing? You need to lie down," Cady told him, worried he would open his wound.

"Donna. Where is she?" he asked, this time looking straight at Vic for the answer.

He saw how Vic's eyes flicked towards Cady before she even considered her answer. In that moment, he knew.

"She's dead, isn't she?" he said, his heart suddenly feeling like it was in a vice.

"I'm sorry, Walt," Vic said, trying to break it to him gently. "There was a wreck, Walt, and Donna was seriously injured. I'm sorry to tell you that she died of her injuries last night."

Walt listened to the words and tried to digest the news, again his breathing became panting as he tried to swallow down his rising nausea. His daughter saw his difficulty and reached for a kidney dish that was on a table close by. She had sensed what was coming. She managed to get it under his chin before he lurched forward and vomited. The physical act of throwing up caused his stitches to pull and his tender chest and shoulder area radiated pain and he cried out.

Vic pressed the call button and after only seconds had passed, the nurse arrived and took over.

"You're okay, Sheriff," she told him, guiding him back and laying him on the pillows. "Just breathe through it. You're okay," she told him calmly. She grabbed some paper towels and cleaned his face. "I'll get you something for the nausea," she told him. "How's your pain?"

"No, I don't need anything. I have to see her," Walt said, making moves to get out of the bed.

"You've just had major surgery, Sheriff. You're going nowhere," she told him in no ordinary fashion, placing a commanding hand on his uninjured shoulder and guiding him back down. He hadn't the strength to resist.

She could see he was upset and sensed there was something else going on.

"I have to see her, please. Let me see her," he pleaded.

"Who is he talking about?" the nurse asked feeling so confused. She saw the patient's daughter trying to hide her tears.

"His girlfriend. She died last night," Vic said without mincing her words. "She's not here, Walt. They air lifted her to a Trauma Center in Casper. I'm sorry, Walt. You can't see her. She's not here."

Walt pressed his head back into his pillows, willing it to not be true. Despite his physical pain, his emotional pain was far worse. Before he realised it, the nurse had injected a sedative into his drip and he relaxed and became drowsy.

He reached for his daughter's arm as he tried to fight the medication.

"Tell me it's not true…..Donna…..I'm sorry."

Cady tried to console him as large tears traced down her cheeks.

"Ssh, it's ok, Dad. You're going to be ok," she whispered as his heavy eyelids finally shut.

Once she knew her father was asleep, she broke down and sobbed her heart out. It was awful seeing him like this. She wanted more than anything to spare him from this pain, but there was little she could do but be there for him.

Vic put her arm around Cady and told her it would be alright. What else could she say?

"He's going to sleep for a while if you want to come back later," the nurse told them.

"I don't want to leave him," Cady told her.

"You need to rest, Cady. He's going to need you to be strong when he's recovering. I can stay with him for a few hours if you don't want him to be left alone," Vic offered.

Cady knew she was right. She was all he had in the world. He was going to need her.

"Ok, but I'll leave my cell on. You call if you need me," she said before thanking her.

Vic sat with Walt for several hours, only leaving to use the bathroom or grab food from the cafeteria and once to take a call about the search for Walker Browning. There had been a possible sighting She pulled the chair close to the bed and allowed her hand to rest on his muscular arm, hoping the physical contact would offer him some small comfort. Occasionally she would stroke his hair or his cheek, letting her guard down when she knew it was only the two of them.

By afternoon, Ferg had called wondering if Vic was coming to work. She explained that she was sitting with Walt while Cady got rest. Ferg offered to take over for a while but Vic insisted on staying. She was glad she did because when Walt woke he was obviously still distressed.

"It wasn't a dream?" he asked with disappointment, when he saw he was still in the same hospital room in the same hospital bed.

"No, Walt. I'm afraid not," Vic replied.

Walt turned away from her, trying to hide the welling tears in his eyes. She was dead. Donna was really dead.

"I'm sorry, Walt," Vic said softly. "I'm so sorry."

He turned and looked at Vic with big, sad, tear-filled eyes.

"It's my fault, Vic," he said, trying to keep it together. "I should have stopped him."

With that, his emotions spilled over. His tough guy exterior disintegrated and his shoulders shook as sobs racked his body. Vic had never seen this usually strong, macho cowboy so vulnerable before. She acted without thinking, and sat up on the left side of the bed beside him and extended her arm around his shoulders and mindful of his injury, gently pulled him to her.

"Ssshh."

"I should have saved her," he insisted.

"Walt, you were shot," Vic reminded him. "You almost died out there. No matter how much you punish yourself, there was nothing more you could have done. She died as a result of a car accident, Walt."

"She needed me," he told her. "He took her and I didn't stop him."

"Hardly, Walt. Even you can't shake off a bullet to the chest. We could have lost you too, Walt, and I don't know how I could have coped with that," Vic admitted, softly stroking his arm.

Walt went quiet, feeling the warmth of his deputy, accepting her consolation. Yet he couldn't help but feel like he was betraying Donna. He was starting to fall for Donna and now she was gone. How could this happen, just as he let himself love again. Maybe it was a sign? There was always only ever one woman for him and that was Martha. Maybe what happened was destiny telling him he had his chance for happily ever after?

Walt rested his head on Vic's shoulder. His heart ached from the loss he suffered. He still felt woozy from the surgery and the medication. He closed his eyes. He felt Vic's hand on his skin as she gently held his rough face. He heard her whisper "It's going to be okay" into his ear. He felt safe.

Vic stayed with him, allowing his to sleep on her shoulder for hours, until Cady returned.

Cady was surprised to see Vic on the bed and her Dad in a deep sleep with his head lying on her.

"He was upset," Vic explained, feeling like she had to justify herself. "He fell asleep eventually and I didn't want to wake him."

"it's okay, Vic. You don't need to apologise. Thanks for being here for him, but you do look pretty uncomfortable. Come on, let's get some pillows and settle him back down," Cady said, hoping to free Vic from her current predicament.

"I was hoping you'd say that. My back is killing me sitting like this," Vic admitted as she held Walt's head up so she could slide away from him.

"Do you think he's going to be alright?" Cady asked after they had settled him onto the pillows again.

"He's blaming himself for what happened to Donna, for not protecting her. It will take time. And I'll have to tell him about Henry as well," Vic told her.

"Maybe let Henry tell him?" Cady suggested and Vic agreed.

"What's going to happen with Henry?" Cady asked.

"Honestly, I don't know. We have no jurisdiction to charge him or even hold him. He didn't break any laws in this county. Hector acted only on the Rez. I've contacted the Tribal Police, but Mathias hasn't come by the hospital to talk to him yet. It was almost like he was reluctant to do anything," Vic told her. "Hell, I can never make that guy out."

"Is he okay, though. His wound?"

Cady hadn't seen him since the day he collapsed. She was still mad at him and couldn't quite bring herself to forgive him for going behind her father's back.

"I think so. I've heard they'll let him home tomorrow," Vic told her.

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n - sorry I don't get around to replying to your reviews individually, but I am really appreciative of them.**

 **Chapter** **5**

For Walt, the next couple of days were difficult. Firstly, he had to contend with the physical pain and lack of mobility as a result. He hated being confined to bed. The only good thing that happened was that he was moved out of the ICU 48 hours after his surgery. He still slept a lot and couldn't get over how tired and weak he was. Every day he was poked and prodded by doctors or nurses.

They ran traces on his cardiac output to assess what, if any, damage occurred as a result of the arrest on the operating table. Even while resting, arrhythmias were discovered which could indicate some damage to the heart muscle. They told him they would try treating them with beta blockers, but if they didn't work, he was looking at possibly having a pacemaker fitted. To Walt, that sounded like something old folks needed. It wasn't something he was willing to consider, yet.

He was getting sick of doctors telling him how he would have to change his lifestyle and take better care of himself. He liked his life. He didn't want anything to change. He didn't know how to change.

As well as the physical trauma, he was trying to deal with the emotional fallout from the loss of Donna. He had looked for more details of what exactly had happened to her, how she had died. Vic brought him her report and a copy of the forensics reports from his cabin and the accident site. She also told him how she had come across the accident on the log road and of her and the Cumberland County Deputy's attempts to help Donna.

Walt listened on, trying to keep his emotions in check. It wasn't easy. He still felt physically ill just thinking about what had happened to her. She should never have been there. He should have stopped his mad man from taking her. He wanted to see her, to say sorry to her. He asked Vic about her funeral.

"I think it's this Friday," Vic told him.

"Good. I should be there," Walt told her, happy it would give him five days to get stronger.

"Eh, I don't think so Walt," Vic told him, sounding adamant. "You're not going anywhere for another week at least."

"But who…who will mourn her?" he asked innocently.

"Her family, Walt."

"Family?"

"Yeah, she had two grown up kids and two sisters. You didn't know?" Vic asked.

"We, eh, never had that conversation," Walt admitted.

Vic nodded in understanding. She knew Walt and Donna hadn't known each other very long and she knew Walt wasn't exactly a fast mover when it came to his feelings or opening up and getting to know someone intimately.

"I'm sorry Walt," she said, as she prepared to leave for work.

"Vic," he said, calling her back. "Where will she be buried?"

"In Sheridan, as far as I know," she replied, before leaving him. "I'll take you to her grave when you're better."

Later that same day, Henry stopped by to see his friend. The last time he had seen him, Walt was seriously ill in ICU. He looked much better today. From Walt's perspective, it was the first time Henry had stopped by. It had surprised him it had taken this long.

"How are you, Walt?" he asked glad to see his friend sitting out of the bed.

He looked frail, however, his right shoulder bound and in a sling tight against his chest, his legs covered by a blanket. The creases around his eyes told of his discomfort.

"Been better," Walt replied.

"It is good to see you awake," Henry told him. "I worried you might not make it."

"I'm stubborn like that," Walt said with a slight smile.

"I was sorry to hear about Dr. Monaghan," Henry said, taking the spare seat and pulling it close to Walt.

Walt sighed and nodded, acknowledging his sympathies. There was a silence, each man lost in this own concerns. Henry had one thing weighing on his mind. He had to be the one to tell Walt that he was Hector, and he had to do it today for fear he would hear it from another source.

Before he figured out a way to bring it up, Walt said to him.

"Cady said you were sick."

"Yes. Of sorts. Complications from a gunshot wound," Henry said, waiting for the information to register with Walt.

"You were shot? Who shot you?" Walt asked.

Henry looked him in the eye and then replied.

"You did."

Walt's forehead creased in confusion, unsure he had heard his friend correctly.

"Me?"

"Yes, Walt. You. I was trying to help Gab, but she shot Tyler Malone at the bonfire that night…and you shot me as I ran away," Henry explained.

Walt was silent.

"Hector ran from the scene," Walt recalled, looking at the floor to help his recollection.

Henry stayed silent waiting for Walt to put the pieces together.

"I shot Hector," Walt told him before he raised his head and looked at his friend.

"Henry, are you Hector," Walt then asked outright.

"Yes, Walt. I am."

Walt looked at his friend in disbelief, in disappointment and eventually in disgust.

"Why? How could you lie to me all this time?"

"I never lied to you, Walt. I just did not think it would be helpful to burden you with the truth," Henry told him.

"I don't understand," Walt said, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He took as deep a breath as his injured body would permit.

"I just wanted to help my people," Henry explained.

"Hector is a criminal," Walt told him.

"I only ever acted when there was no chance of justice," he continued.

Walt felt betrayed. The one person in the world that he always counted on had been lying to him, keeping secrets for months. His heart continued to beat too fast and he felt light headed.

"You need to go," Walt said, trying to slow his heart beat. "Get out."

Henry stood up and looked at his friend. Walt could not look at him. He knew he had really hurt his best friend. He only hoped he would someday forgive him. He sensed from Walt's breathing that there was a medical problem as well and as he left, he asked the nurse to check on him.

The nurse came in and saw Walt holding his chest.

"Sheriff? Are you feeling ok?"

"My heart is pounding," he told her.

"Okay, just relax. Let's just get back to bed and I'll put the monitor back on," she suggested. "I'll get Doc Weston for you."

The doctor came quickly and checked Walt.

"Am I having a heart attack, Doc?" Walt asked, feeling scared.

"I don't think so, Walt, but I suspect you're experiencing palpitations. The heart traces we've been running over the last two days show signs of atrial fibrillation. What you're feeling now may pass without intervention, but if it gets worse we might have to take action," the doctor explained.

He placed an oxygen mask over Walt's nose and mouth and asked him to take slow deep breaths. He closely watched the heart monitor and was relieved to see the heart rate slowly fall back to within normal range over the next few minutes.

"You're ok, Walt," he told him. "Just take it easy and no stress for the next few days especially."

As the doctor was leaving, Henry, who had waited outside, stopped him on the corridor.

"Is he okay, Doctor?"

"He will be, once he takes it easy," Dr. Weston replied.

Henry felt the relief wash over him. The last thing he had wanted to do was make Walt ill or hurt him in any way. He decided then to stay away until Walt was strong enough to deal with what had transpired.

Cady called later that evening. Before she entered his room, the nurse took her aside and updated her on his cardiac episode earlier in the day. She was concerned, but the nurse set her at ease, saying he was fine and they were going to be able to manage the problem. When she saw her dad, he was quick to tell her about Henry's admission, funnily enough, omitting the part where his heart went into fibrillation. She smiled and told him that she had known a couple of days about Henry.

He was a little annoyed that she had kept it from him, but she told him why and he accepted it. She also had one other thing to tell him, but having heard about his episode earlier in the day, and the nurses request to keep him stress free for a while, she decided to keep the news about her job with Jacob Nighthorse to herself. She would tell him when he was stronger.

A few more days passed. Walt grew stronger each day. He had made up his mind that there was no way he was going to miss Donna's funeral. On the Thursday he was well enough to take short walks along the corridor unaided. On one of those short walks, he made a call from the pay phone.

He called Bob, giving him instructions to go to his cabin and bring him some clothes and also arranging a ride to Sheridan. He decided it was best not to mention anything to Cady or Vic. And the way things were with Henry, he didn't even consider asking him to drive him there.

Thursday evening passed and the usual visitors called in. Walt still slept quite a bit during the day, but was definitely stronger. Friday morning came and he asked his nurse to help him shave t heeling her he felt it would make him feel better. The nurse duly obliged and pretty soon, Walt looked respectable.

He made sure to be there for the doctor's morning rounds. Once the doctor had cleared out, Walt got out of bed sorely and awkwardly tried to dress himself. Bob had arrived to pick him up. As it turned out, Walt also needed Bob's help to get his shirt on and to put his sling back on.

Walt was grateful for the painkillers that he had been given a couple of hours earlier and hoped that they would be enough to get him through the day. Bob had also brought Walt his jacket and hat so he was ready for the cool weather.

Bob noticed when Walt swayed slightly as he stood up and prepared to leave.

"Are you sure you should be doing this, Walt?" he asked, a little concerned.

"I'll be fine," Walt insisted. "Just get me there, okay?"

Bob agreed and they both slipped out of the room and out of the hospital unnoticed.

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The ride to Sheridan in Bob's ancient truck was bone shaking. Every bump and stone in the road caused Walt's injury to flare in pain and he tried his best to block out the discomfort he was in. He was grateful, however, that the journey would take less than an hour. When they reached the quaint little church, Bob dropped Walt outside. From outside, he could hear that the service had already started. Walt didn't want to draw attention to himself so he respectfully removed his hat and slipped in quietly, taking a seat at the back.

At the top of the main aisle stood an ornately decorated casket and beside it a photograph of Donna's smiling face beaming at everyone in the church who mourned her. Walt felt a pang of despair come over him once more. No matter how much he wanted this not to be happening, this was very real. It was hard to accept that she was actually gone. She would not be coming back.

He watched as a young man, dressed in a dark grey suit and black tie, stood to walk to the pulpit. The minister introduced him to the congregation as Donna's son, Mark. He looked to be about 25 years old. He spoke eloquently of his mother and fought back tears as he shared memories of her with the congregation, recalling family vacations, little league games and the work she had dedicated her like to. When he left the pulpit, a haunting female voice broke the silence and echoed through the old building in song. The words of the hymn so touching, the music so beautiful and so apt, a lump grew in Walt's throat.

Walt left before the congregation prepared to move to the cemetery, partly not wanting to be recognised and partly because he felt her family would blame him for her death. He didn't want a confrontation. He painfully climbed back into Bob's truck and asked Bob to take him to the nearby cemetery.

"You sure you should be doing this, Walt?"

"I owe her this at least," Walt said, staring out the window as they drove the short distance.

They parked up and waited for the funeral cortege to arrive in silence.

Meanwhile, back in Durant, Cady arrived at the hospital to see her father. She entered his room and was surprised to see that the bed was empty.

"Dad?" she said, walking towards the adjoining bathroom and knocking on the door. "Are you ok in there?"

She frowned when she got no answer.

"Dad? I'm coming in," she said, pushing the door open. She was stunned to find the small room empty except for his hospital gown discarded on the floor.

She started to get worried and hurried to the nurse's station. She saw her dad's nurse sitting at the desk, completing some paperwork.

"Excuse me, have you seen my father?" she asked politely.

"The sheriff? Last I saw him he was in his room," she told her. "I shaved him and then the doctor called in on his rounds. That was probably around 10.30."

"Well, he's not there now. Damn it," Cady said, figuring out what he was probably doing.

She took out her cell phone and called Vic.

"Is he with you?" she asked bluntly.

"What? Who?" Vic enquired, puzzled at Cady's panic.

"My Dad."

"Walt? No, of course he's not with me. I'm at work," Vic told her.

"Well, he's left the hospital and told no one. Have you any idea where he might be?" Cady asked.

"Did you try his house?" Vic asked, trying the obvious first.

"I'll drive over there now," Cady said heading towards the parking lot.

Then a realization hit Vic. "Oh, hold on a minute. What day is it?"

"Friday."

"Donna's funeral is today," Vic remembered.

"Yes. Of course. I don't believe it. What does he think he's doing? He's not fit to drive anywhere," Cady pointed out.

"His Bronco was totalled," Vic reminded her. "I doubt he's driving."

"Well, how is he getting there?"

"Maybe Henry took him?" Vic suggested.

"I doubt it," Cady said, knowing how strained things were between the two of them after Henry's admission.

"There's always the bus," Vic reminded her.

"Oh my God," Cady said, feeling really worried. Her father was recovering well from his injuries, but he was in no way strong enough to undertake a trip just yet. "I have to go find him."

"No, it's ok, Cady," Vic said, also feeling worried about Walt. "I'll go. YOu try the house, just in case. I'll call you if I find him."

Reluctantly, Cady agreed. She knew Vic would use the sirens and get there a lot quicker than she could.

Meanwhile, in the peaceful cemetery in Sheridan, the funeral procession arrived for the burial. Walt remained in the truck until the crowd had gathered around the grave. He then left the truck and walked to a tree a little way off, close enough to hear the minister's words, but far enough away to remain unnoticed. He stood and listened to the prayers being offered for Donna and felt tears well in his eyes as he watched her coffin disappear into the earth.

In that moment, his pain intensified. His emotional pain seemed to exaggerate his physical pain and he leaned over and, with his uninjured limb, held onto the trunk of a mature yew tree for support. He tried to breathe through it hoping it would pass. From where he sat in his truck, Bob noticed Walt falter and hurried to his aid.

"Walt?" he said as he approached. "You okay?"

Walt didn't answer, just continued to take deep, cleansing breaths. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he thought it was going to burst out of it.

"You gonna pass out?"

Walt was pretty sure the answer was yes and nodded. Bob took hold of him and guided him to the ground, seating him with his back against the tree.

"I'll call an ambulance," Bob said, taking out his cell.

Walt reached and grabbed his forearm.

"No, it'll pass."

Walt continued to take slow cleansing breaths. Bob was uncomfortable doing nothing as the sheriff was so obviously in difficulty. He was surprised, and a little relieved, to see a blonde, well-dressed, lady approaching them. She was obviously a guest from the funeral.

"Do you need some assistance?" she asked, concerned for the pale gentleman sitting on the ground.

Walt looked up through bleary eyes and saw the slim silhouette, blonde hair and heard the voice. He thought he was seeing things.

"Donna?" he asked, sounding puzzled.

"No, I'm Marianne, Donna's sister," the lady asked.

"Sister? Of course. I'm sorry," Walt said weakly before hanging his head.

"You knew my sister?" she enquired.

Walt nodded, still concentrating on his breathing.

"You must be him," she said, smiling. "Her cowboy. She told me about you. Now I can see what she meant."

She looked at Bob who stood awkwardly close to Walt, who continued to lean forward with his head almost between his knees.

"Shouldn't he be in the hospital?" she asked Bob. "The police told me he had nearly been killed by the man who took Donna from us."

"He was, and yes, he should be in hospital," he replied, leaning down and saying the last few words into Walt's face for emphasis. "I should take him back."

"I'm sorry," Walt said again, looking up through red-rimmed eyes at Donna's sister. "I should've stopped him. I'm so sorry."

Marianne knelt down and put her arms around Walt and held him.

"I've no doubt you did everything you could," she told him. "Donna wouldn't want you to blame yourself. She would never want that."

She gestured to Bob to come and help her.

"Let's get you up," she said as Bob put Walt's uninjured arm over his shoulder and hauled him back to his feet.

Walt felt a little embarrassed needing help, but his strength had drained from him. As Bob helped him to the truck, Marianne called after him.

"Thank you."

Walt felt confused. He paused and turned back towards her.

"For what?"

"For making her happy."

Walt smiled. They were happy, even if their time was cut tragically short. Bob struggled to get Walt to the truck, but made it all the same. Walt rested his head back and tried to block out the throbbing coming from his wound.

"Take some water," Bob insisted, handing Walt the bottle.

Walt did as he was directed and took a few mouthfuls.

"Thanks, Bob."

"Let's get you home," Bob said, putting the truck into drive and leaving the cemetery behind.

Meanwhile, Vic was speeding towards Sheridan in her truck and she was mad. She was angry that Walt went behind their backs and went to Donna's funeral. She was angry that he felt he couldn't ask her to take him. She was angry that he put his health at risk again so soon after being seriously injured.

As she was seething, she was also hoping. Hoping that he had in fact gone to the funeral and that he hadn't gone off on some God forsaken quest and told no one. It wouldn't be the first time. Hoping her hunch was right. She was just thinking this when a truck passed her going in the opposite direction. She recognised the truck, realised who it belonged to and then jammed on the brakes and pulled a U-turn on the road. She stuck on her lights and siren and chased the truck until it stopped.

Fuming, she got out of her truck and marched up to the driver window.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled at a startled Bob.

She was relieved to see Walt in the passenger seat.

"I wasn't speeding, was I?" Bob asked innocently.

"That's not what I mean."

"I was just helping out a friend," Bob replied, knowing exactly what she meant.

"Leave him be, Vic," Walt said, sounding exhausted. "I asked him to take me."

She looked over at him and the first thing she noticed was the perspiration soaking his forehead and neck of his shirt.

"Jesus, Walt," she said, hurrying to the opposite side of the truck. She opened the door and placed the palm of her hand on his forehead. He felt cool.

"How long has he been like this?" she asked Bob.

"Just before we left the cemetery. About 20 minutes," Bob replied.

She felt his pulse and could feel it racing.

"I'm fine, Vic."

"Help me get him into my truck," Vic ordered Bob.

She was worried. Walt was not at all well. The fact that he didn't put up a fight was testament to that. She moved her truck as close as she could get it to Bobs and between them they managed to get a very weak Walt Longmire into it.

Bob looked on as Vic got back in her truck and drove away at high speed, lights and sirens all the way to Durant.

She kept talking to Walt, fearing he would slip into unconsciousness. It worked for a while, but eventually he stopped responding. She reached across to give him a gentle push to try rouse him. She glanced towards him and then noticed a blood stain seeping onto his jeans.

"Damn it, Walt," she cursed. "What have you done?"

They were still at least another 20 minutes from Durant. She had no choice but to stop and see where the blood was coming from. She pulled back his jacket and saw his shirt was badly stained. She cursed again as her fears were realised. He had opened his surgical wound. She reached behind the driver's seat and found the medical kit. She scrambled to find a wound pressure pack. She tore open Walt's shirt and removed the soaked dressing that was already on his chest. She dried off around the wound then pressed the dressing against it ensuring it sealed.

It would have to do. She had to get moving and get him back to the hospital. As she drove she called Cady on her cell and told her to that she had found her father. She explained what was going on and asked her to have Doc Weston on standby.

By the time she got there, Walt was conscious again but weak and a little confused. Hospital staff helped him inside and he was taken to his room where Doc Weston was waiting. They lay him down and placed a monitor immediately on his heart, the doctor fearing his patient had or was going to have a heart attack.

Cady and Vic remained outside at the request of the doctor. After about 30 minutes, the doctor emerged with a reassuring smile on his face.

"He's ok," he told them.

"Did he have a heart attack?" Vic asked.

"No, I'm confident he didn't. But the heart arrhythmias are becoming more frequent so I've told him he needs that pacemaker, sooner rather than later."

"A pacemaker?" Cady asked. "How did he take that?"

"He's still a bit groggy. I'm not sure it even registered so I'll have that conversation tomorrow. He's been given pain killers and we re-sutured his wound. He should sleep for the night now. Come back tomorrow and we'll have a proper discussion."

Vic and Cady thanked him and then he left them. They looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.

"What does that mean? Will he have to retire?" Cady asked.

"I don't know. A friend of my dad's in Philly got a pacemaker and he continued to work, but he wasn't in law enforcement. He was a banker," Vic told her.

Cady was worried again. It never crossed her mind that her dad might not be able to continue as sheriff because of this. What would that do to him? It was literally a case of who knows what tomorrow will bring.

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Vic and Cady went back to their shared house and ordered pizza and opened a bottle of white wine. They were both worried. The doctor's words had hit home and they were beginning to realise that it was going to be a rough road ahead for Walt. Things would have to change and they both knew how Walt disliked change.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Vic asked as they conversed. "I mean, will he still be able to work for the county?"

"I'm not sure. He'll have to undergo a medical I would imagine. I guess it would depend on how that goes. I can't see him retiring though. I know that for sure," Cady stated as she took a large mouthful of red wine.

There was a pause as they each considered the what lay ahead.

"And it gets worse, Vic," Cady stated.

Vic looked at her with a bemused expression.

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't told him about my new job yet," Cady explained.

"You got a new job? Congratulations," Vic said, raising her glass in celebration.

Cady didn't raise hers and smiled awkwardly. Vic lowered her glass, sensing she was missing something.

"I took a job working for Jacob Nighthorse," Cady told her.

Vic's jaw dropped. She wasn't expecting to hear that.

"Seriously?"

"Well, not working for him directly, but he's asked me to open a legal advice center on the Rez which he and the casino will fund. It's a great opportunity, Vic. I never thought I'd get such a chance here in Absaroka," Cady told her.

Vic was stunned. She knew exactly why Cady hadn't mentioned it to Walt as yet.

"Well, now I see why you haven't told him," she said, taking another sip of wine.

Cady nodded, sighed as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, then reached for another slice of pizza.

"He's going to hate it, isn't he?" she eventually asked.

"I don't know. Maybe he'll be glad for you?" Vic said, trying to say the right thing, but knowing it would never be the case.

They finished the pizza and polished off the wine and eventually retired for the night. Cady found it difficult to sleep. She was worried about her dad, his health and about having to tell him of her decision to accept Jacob's offer. The next few days weren't going to be easy.

The next day was definitely a tough one for Walt. Doc Weston visited in the morning on his rounds and explained to Walt that he was recommending a pacemaker to regulate his heartbeat. Walt, needless to say, was apprehensive.

"I can't, Doc," he told him. "I can't be sheriff if I have heart problems."

"Walt, your heart suffered damage during the surgery and if you want to lead a normal, productive life again, you need this procedure," the doctor explained.

"And if I don't?"

"If you don't then there is no way I can sign off on your fitness for duty report for the county," Weston told him.

Walt sighed deeply and looked the doctor in the eye.

"I guess that's decided it for me then," Walt relented, knowing he would do anything to be able to stay working.

"Good. I can schedule you for the procedure for tomorrow first thing," Doc Weston told him.

In the silence of the hospital room, when the doctor had left, Walt felt a little scared. His life had been turned on its head. A week ago he thought he had a shot at happiness. Now Donna was gone, his career was in jeopardy and he needed this surgery. He suddenly felt like an old man. In his mind, only old men needed pacemakers.

He was forced to take stock and consider his future. Right now, all he could think about was the fact that he may not be able to continue working. The question invading his mind was if he couldn't be a law man, what would he do? What would be his reason for getting up in the morning?

He was contemplating all of this when Cady stopped by. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and he smiled back at her. She was, without a doubt, his main reason for going on. However, today he sensed she had something on her mind. She was being sheepish.

"I've told Doc Weston I'll do it," Walt said, thinking she was just worrying about him. "I'll get the pacemaker."

"You will? That's great," she said, pleased he had seen sense.

That was the end of her reaction which slightly bewildered Walt. She was obviously distracted. He had to ask.

"Is everything okay, Punk?"

Cady knew this was her opening. She would have to tell him eventually. Why not now?

"Yes, everything's fine. So much has happened in the last week, Dad, I didn't get to tell you that I got a new job," she told him.

"A job? That's great, Cady. Here in Absaroka?" Walt asked.

"Yes. Sort of," she replied, pausing momentarily. "I'll be working for Jacob Nighthorse. Well, not working for him exactly. He wants me to set up a legal advice practice on the Rez financed by the casino."

Walt blinked and glared at her. He wasn't sure if he had heard correctly. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

"Eh, sorry. Must be the stuff they have me on. I thought you said Jacob Nighthorse," he said, assuming he had misheard.

"I did, Dad. This is a great opportunity for me to make a difference," Cady tried to explain. "Be happy for me."

"You have to be joking," Walt said angrily. "How could you do this to me?"

"What? Do what to you? I did this for me. I need a job, Dad, I can't keep going on the way I am. I deserve a career. I deserve a life," she told him emotionally.

"But Nighthorse?" Walt growled at her, feeling his blood pressure rising. "After what he did to your mother?"

"Dad, he didn't do anything to Mom. It was Barlow, remember?" Cady reminded him. "Mom was against the idea of the casino, not Nighthorse, but the casino is here now and it's not going away. Surely, putting the profits to good use would be what she would want."

"I think what she would want would be for you to respect your father," Walt snapped. He heard the words only after he had spat them out and regretted their sharpness immediately.

He saw his daughter's expression change in an instant. His harshness had really cut her. She stood up to leave, not wanting the disagreement to escalate, conscious of her father's condition. Tears welled in her eyes, but she was damned if she would let him see her cry.

"Cady?" Walt said as she turned away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Cady didn't turn back. The door swung closed.

"Cady?"

Walt pinched the bridge of his nose before drawing his left hand down face. What had he done? What had she done? He didn't know what to think and hoped that she would calm down and allow him to apologize.

He felt helpless. He needed to get home, get back to his own surroundings. There he would be able to think clearly and then everything would be okay. He considered how much he could do with talking to Henry right now, but remembered that he had pushed him away too. He didn't really have anyone left.

He wallowed alone in his room for a couple of hours and then he received a visitor and boy was he glad to see her. Vic entered the room and then stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.

"What the hell did you say to her, Walt?" she demanded, obviously annoyed with him.

Walt was a little taken aback. He didn't respond, just hung his head. He knew what she was talking about.

"Well, just so you know, you've really done it this time. Cady just asked me if I'd look after you when you get out of here, because she can't bear to be around you at the moment," Vic informed him.

Walt's heart sank. He already knew he'd blown it with his daughter, that what he said was wrong, but there was still a part of him that felt like she had betrayed him.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" Vic continued crossly.

"What am I going to do? I think the ball is in her court. She quits working for Nighthorse, then we don't have a problem," Walt replied stubbornly.

"Jeez, Walt. Grow up," Vic snapped. "I don't blame Cady to be honest. You still treat her like a child. She's a grown woman. For God's sake, let her live her life."

"It's my job to protect her," Walt replied. "Nighthorse is doing this to get back at me. Why can't she see that?"

"Christ, Walt. Did it ever cross your mind that he just wants Cady because she's the most qualified person in Absaroka?" Vic suggested.

"I don't trust him," Walt muttered.

"No shit," Vic retorted. "Well maybe, while you're in here, you should get them to treat your acute case of paranoia as well? Here, I brought you a paper," she said throwing it on the bed beside him. "I have to go to work. I'll leave you to think about it."

With that Vic disappeared as quickly as she arrived, like a whirlwind. Walt was a little stunned at her vehemence. But deep down he knew he deserved it. He spent the rest of the evening quite lonely. His only visitor later that evening was Ruby, who came by to wish him well before his procedure the next day.

The thing about Ruby was she could see right through him. He was never able to keep much from her.

"Walter, what's on your mind?"

Walt paused before telling her what had happened that morning.

"In your heart, Walter, do you really think Cady would deliberately set out to hurt you?" Ruby asked.

Walt shook his head.

"She's your only family, Walter, and family is precious. You have bridges to mend when you get out of here and if that means swallowing your pride, then that's what you have to do, do you hear me?" she asked.

Walt nodded again. As usual, Ruby's words were wise.

"Tonight, you rest so you are prepared for your operation," Ruby told him. "Okay?"

Again, Walt nodded and thanked her.

"I'll pop by once I know you're over the surgery," she promised as she reached for her handbag and left the room.

Walt found it difficult to sleep that night. His mind was buzzing with thoughts of his daughter, of Nighthorse, his own mortality and the losses he had suffered. It was a restless night.

Morning had broken by the time he eventually dozed off. He didn't get to sleep for long before the nurse and hospital porter woke him to prepare him for his procedure. His chest was shaved and he was placed on a gurney to take him to theater. He felt a little anxious, but he was given some pre-operative meds before entering the OR and he soon relaxed. He remembered the anesthetist placing a mask over his mouth and nose and not much else until he woke up in the recovery room a while later.

"It went very well, Sheriff," his nurse told him. "We'll move you back to your room shortly."

Walt closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep pretty quickly. He woke again as he was being lifted into his bed. He felt pretty spaced out and assumed it was the medication. He slept for most of the morning and into the early afternoon.

He woke to find Vic sitting reading a magazine in the chair beside him.

"Everything went well they tell me," she informed him. "How do you feel?"

Walt considered for a moment, his thoughts were a little slower.

"Fine," he replied. "A little groggy."

"Well, the doc also said you should be good to go home tomorrow. How do you feel about that?"

"Sounds fine," Walt replied.

"Good," Vic said. "I'll swing by tomorrow morning and take you home."

"Thanks."

Much to Walt's sadness, Cady did not visit that afternoon or evening. She must really be mad, he thought. And he was right, she was fuming. Once Vic told her that he was over the surgery, she felt a little better. Despite everything he was still her dad. She just couldn't be around him at the moment.

However, hearing that he was being released from hospital the next day, she realized that his house was still a crime scene so she hurried over to try clean up a little.

When she reached the cabin, she noticed Henry's truck outside. He greeted her from the veranda, screw driver in hand, as she drove up.

"What are you doing here?" she asked curiously.

"I was speaking to Ferg and he told me Walt was coming home so I thought I might fix the door, maybe clean up some of the blood," Henry told her. "I was shocked to see the amount of blood he lost. Some of the boards are heavily stained and may have to be replaced eventually. I will try sanding them down first."

"That's very thoughtful of you," Cady acknowledged.

"How is he?" Henry asked, feeling sad that he hadn't seen his best friend in days. Even sadder that he wasn't welcome.

"Vic said he is over his surgery and is ok," Cady replied. Henry frowned sensing there was something not being said.

"You did not see him?"

"Let's just say that his paranoia has managed to push me away too," she told him. "I told him about my new job and now he thinks I've chosen Jacob Nighthorse over him. He more or less gave me an ultimatum. For once, I chose me, so I won't be visiting with him at the hospital and I won't be here when he gets home."

"Okay," Henry said, nodding. "So what are you doing here now?"

"Same as you. I didn't want him coming home to a mess," she told him.

"Two hands are better than one," he said as she stepped through and into the living room.

She saw the stain on the floor and the smeared blood spatter on the wall and door frame into the bedroom. She could see where someone had tried to wipe it away.

"I got as much as I could with the mop and cloth. It is going to need bleach and eventually fresh paint," Henry told her.

"I'll get the bleach," Cady said, heading to the kitchen.

Together they spent the evening scrubbing and cleaning, leaving Walt's cabin in pristine condition for his homecoming.

Back at the hospital, Ruby was as dependable as ever. She called by and shared the local gossip with Walt. He listened courteously, but wasn't really listening. His mind was on his daughter and how he could fix things between them.

 **To be continued...**


End file.
